Her Prize, His Mistress
by missymace
Summary: Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful. He's up for grabs at a charity auction! Who does the highest bid?
1. Chapter 1

KxM fangirl here.

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

* * *

Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful, the corporate lawyer is the possible heir to Espada, his father's sprawling ranch – and he's up for grabs at a charity auction.

But when Kouzuki Miyu wins Kanata for the weekend, she doesn't claim her prize. _Why_ has the cool blond beauty staked thousands of dollars on Kanata… and then just walked away? Kanata is determined to pursue the lady who bought him, and exact his own price!

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**i**

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* * *

**

Saionji Kanata stood in the wings of the improvised stage at the Hotel Paradise, a hint of defiance in the rake of his jaw, waiting to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

And wasn't that a hell of a thing for a man to be doing on a beautiful Thursday night in early June? Kanata thought grimly.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and then smoothed his hand down the lapel of his tux. He couldn't see the crowd in the elegant ballroom but he could damn well hear it, every feminine hoot, whistle and catcall. This was the crème de la crème of L.A. society, Santa Kurosu had said. Maybe so. But they sure sounded pretty down-and-dirty from where Kanata stood.

The wheedling drone of the auctioneer's voice oozed from the loudspeakers from a comb on a hot Texas day.

"What'm-I-bid, what'm-I-bid, ladies, c'mon, c'mon, don't be shy, don't hold back. Win the man of your dreams for the weekend."

Shy? Kanata snorted. Based on what he'd been hearing for the past hour, the women gathered in the ballroom were about as shy as a herd of buffalo and about as delicate in making their wants known. They cheered, they laughed, they hooted and hollered until the gavel game down and then they applauded and whistled until Kanata figured the noise level was enough to have the riot cops bust the place. And then they started up all over again, when the next hapless victim was shoved out on stage.

Not that all the Bachelors for Bucks had to be pushed. Lots of them went willingly, grinning and throwing kisses to the crowd.

"Hey, man," one guy had said, after a look at Kanata's glum expression, "it's all for charity, right?"

Right, Kanata thought, his scowl darkening. But the guy with the smile had probably volunteered for this nonsense. Kanata hadn't. And to make things even worse, the luck of the draw was sending him out on that stage last.

How, he thought, _how_ had he let himself get talked into this mess?

"Sold!" The auctioneer's triumphant shout and the smack of his gavel were drowned out in a burst of cheers and applause.

"Another one gone," a voice mumbled, and Kanata turned as a skinny blond guy stepped up beside him, his Adam's apple bobbing as he adjusted his tie. "Man, I'd rather be going for a root canal."

"You got that right," Kanata said.

"Now, now, gentlemen." Peggy Jean, who'd cheerfully introduced herself as "your friendly slave mistress for the evening" when they'd all been introduced, tweaked the skinny guy's cheek. "You just relax, go on out there and have yourself some fun."

"Fun?" the guy said, "Fun?"

"Fun," Peggy repeated, and she put her hand in the middle of his back and gently pushed him out of the wings and onto the stage.

The roar of the audience sent the blood right to Kanata's head.

Peggy smiled. "Hear that?"

"Yeah," Kanata said, with what he hoped would pass for a smile. "Sounds like a pack of hyenas on a blood trail."

Peggy giggled. "You got that right." She took a step back, and then eyeballed Kanata from the top of his sun-streaked chestnut hair to the toes of his shiny black boots. "My oh my, handsome. They're gonna go nuts when they spot you."

She grinned, and Kanata tried to return it.

"Don't tell me a hunk like you is nervous," Peggy said.

"No," Kanata said, lying through his teeth. "Why would I be nervous about going out on that stage in front of a million screaming women to get myself auctioned off?"

Peggy laughed. "It's all for a good cause," she said over her shoulder as she hurried away, "And you'll get snapped up in a second."

Yeah, Kanata thought, oh, yeah. That's what he'd been telling himself all night – that, and the fact that he was a sane man, a normal, healthy, sane, thirty-two-year-old attorney. A bachelor, yes…but a bachelor who liked to choose his own women.

And choose them, he did. All the time. If he had any problems with women, it was getting them to understand, when the moment of truth came, that all good things came to an end. Relationships between the sexes weren't meant to last forever. A bad marriage and a worse divorce had finally taught him what the lessons of his childhood hadn't but those two blips in the road were long behind him.

It wasn't as if he was opposed to women coming on to him. He like a little aggressiveness in a woman, in bed and out. He found it sexy.

But a woman hitting on a guy she spotted at a party was one thing. Bidding for him, as if he were a slab of meat…

That was something else.

He'd been conned. And it had happened during a partners meeting at Sawada, Cohen and Vittali a few months ago.

If only he'd realized that Santa Kurosu was setting him up.

"Hey, Saionji," Santa had said casually, as he bit into a bagel, "I was talking about you the other day with some guys from Haruya and Murphy."

"Ah," Kanata had said, with a smile, "were they telling you how much they wish I'd accepted a partnership there instead of here?"

Santa chuckled. "Actually, we were talking about the Bachelors for Bucks thing. You know, the annual charity auction?"

"That's still going on?"

"Yup." Santa buttered the other half of his bagel. "They're figuring the new guy they hired is gonna come in at an all-time high bid."

"No way," one of the other partners said.

Santa shrugged. "They're taking bets he will, John. They figure nobody can beat him, considering his record."

"What record?" John reached for the sweetener. "The guy talks too much, you know what I mean? Any man blabs endlessly about all the broads in his life, well, right away, I have my doubts. No man has that much time, much less stamina." John grinned. "Well, except for ol' Kanata, here."

Santa nodded thoughtfully. "I agree." He shot Kanata a look. "But Kanata never talks. Never lets us in on what he's been doing, and who and how often he's been doing it with."

Kanata looked up from his coffee and grinned."I am an man of honor," he said. "I never talk about my women." His grin broadened. "And the silence just kills you, pal, doesn't it?"

"But," Santa said, undeterred, "we all know what a stud our Kanata is. Talk about his latest conquest is a staple in the secretaries' lunchroom. We spot the newest lady getting out of a taxi in front of the building at quitting time." He grinned. "And we watch the bouquets of long-stemmed roses fly out of the florist's shop next door; when Kanata decides it's time to dump a broad."

"Please," Kanata said, his hand to his heart. "I'd never send roses."

"So, what do you send?"

The partners all looked up from their coffee. Old man Sawada was the one who'd asked the question. It was the first time he'd said a word during a meeting in six months.

"Whatever flowers seem appropriate for that particular lady," Kanata said, and smiled. "And something small but tasteful, with a rose that says—"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Sawada suggested, and everyone laughed.

"The thing is," Santa said, "I told the guys from Haruya and Murphy that they could boast all they like about their man getting the high bid, considering that our man didn't even enter."  
"Which he hadn't, and isn't," Kanata said firmly.

"Oh, I know that. We all know that. Right, boys?"

Later, Kanata would remember that everybody in the room, even the two female partners, nodded vigorously, then put their heads down as if on cue. But right at that moment, Santa's comments had seemed casual.

"And they said?"

Santa sighed. "They said that we're all lawyers, and we should know better than to present a case with nothing but hearsay evidence."

Someone groaned. Someone else laughed, but old man Sawada narrowed his rheumy eyes and leaned forward in his chair at the head of the boardroom table.

"And, Santa?"

"And," Santa said, after a barely perceptible pause, "they challenged us. They said we should put our boy, Kanata, on the block."

"No way," Kanata said quickly.

"Then they said, we'll really see which guy wins." He paused dramatically. "And the firm that loses had to treat the other to a gold weekend at Pebble Beach."

"Cool," somebody said, and then a wild cheer went up around the walnut-paneled room.

"Now, wait just a minute," Kanata had started to say, but old man Sawada was already smiling across the table and assuring Kanata that they all knew he'd carry their banner high into battle, and make them proud to be partners in Sawada, Cohen and Vittali.

Trapped, Kanata thought grimly. It had been a conspiracy. Old man Sawada had probably been the only one not in on the scheme. Not that it mattered. There'd been no way out of the setup, not without hearing about it forever from the rest of the partners. And so now here he was, a man about to go onstage before a crowd of estrogen-crazed females like a lamb being led to the slaughter, and if he came in at a penny lower than five grand – which was what Haruya and Murphy's entry had gone for—he'd never live it down.

"I didn't really have a choice," he'd said to his kid brother, over the phone. "Anyway, it's for a good cause. All the money raised goes to children's hospitals."

"Sure," Saku had said, and then he'd snorted.

"What?"

"Well, I was just thinking…" Saku's voice took on the soft, Texas drawl of their childhood. "It's kind of like a bull bein' auctioned off to a herd of heifers."

"It's a legitimate auction," Kanata had said coldly, and slammed down the phone. Then he'd picked it up, punched in the code for Saku's Boston number again and said, before Saku could say a word, that he should have known better than to have expected sympathy from his own flesh and blood.

"You got it, bro," Saku had replied, and laughed until, at last, Kanata had laughed, too, and said how bad would it really be…

Kanata shuddered. "Bad," he whispered, and closed his eyes.

All the senior partners and associates were in the audience. The clerks and the secretaries were waiting by their telephones, eager to her how their entry did because this thing had taken on a life of its own, with side bets, pool bets….

How much would he go for? Would he top the Haruya and Murphy guy? Where would he place in the overall standings? Would the woman who "bought" him be good-looking? A ten, on the nutty scale the secretaries had drawn up? A five? Or, as his own secretary had explained, with a shudder, would a two or even a one be the winner?

Kanata groaned.

Unless he went for the right price, to the right female, he'd never live it down. And there was just no way to tell how things would go, once he got on stage and put his fate in the hands of the auctioneer and the wild-women masquerading as solid citizens. Why hadn't he had the brains to set thing up? Bought a ticket for Sally—no, not Sally. He'd just sent her a bouquet of dog-toothed violets and an eight ounce bottle of Chanel. Okay, then. Belma. He could have bought Belma a ticket, told her to bid a thousand bucks more than whatever the Haruya and Murphy guy went for and he'd pay her back—with interest.

Except, what good was a bet, if you had to cheat to win it?

There was no choice except to leave the bidding up to fate. And he, of all people, knew that fate wasn't always kind, not even for an event as silly as this.

"Your turn next, Cowboy."

Kanata jerked upright at the sound of Peggy's voice.

"Great," he said stiffly. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"Want me to take a peek at the house? Tell you who hasn't bought herself a hunk yet and looks s if she might be willing to pay a decent price for you?"

"It's unimportant," he said, with dignity, and she laughed.

"Move over, and let me look."

"Look? Look where?"

"There's a tine crack, right here…." Peggy slipped up beside him and put her eye to the wall. "Aha!"

"Aha, what?" Kanata asked, despite his best intentions to appear disinterested.

"There are definitely some—what do you guys call them now? Foxes? Babes?"

"Attractive women," Kanata said with dignity, and sent up a silent thank-you.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Okay, then, handsome, there are some attractive women." She sighed. "And some so-so's."

"Well," Kanata said valiantly, "that's fine."

"And…" Peggy stiffened. "Uh-oh."

Kanata froze. "Uh-oh, what?"

"Uh-oh, there's a lady right in the center who, uh, who probably has a great personality. A terrific personality, you might say."

"I'm sure she has," Kanata said bravely.

"And I'm sure the woman with the feather boa and the rhinestone tiara at the table right behind her will fascinate you no end."

"Oh." His shoulders slumped. "As bad as that?"

"And then there's the green-eyed blonde who just walked in. oh, I hate her on sight! Great hair. Great face. Great bod, from what I can see of it. Mark my words, Cowboy. Any woman who looks like that probably has the intellect of a potato."

Kanata laughed. "Meow."

"I'm just being honest. You get looks like that and, to compensate, you get empty space between your ears. And the disposition of a weasel."

"A weasel, huh?" Kanata grinned. "Whoever said women were the gentle sex didn't know what he was talking about."

"Well, it's the truth." Peggy stepped closer, smoothed down his lapels. "So you do yourself a favor, Cowboy. Go on out there and play to the crowd. To the—what'd you call 'em?—the 'attractive women.' Heck, if you're feeling generous, maybe even to the, uh, the lady with the terrific personality." She smiled. "Forget about the Ice Princess."

Kanata smiled, too. Suddenly, with the moment of truth upon him, he saw all his worries for the foolishness they were. And he owed the revelation to Peggy.

He took her hand and bowed over it.

"Ah, Slave Mistress, you have my heartfelt gratitude. To hell with Pebble Beach and my reputation."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." He lifted her fingers to his lips. "Too bad you're not out there bidding, m'love. I'd be honored to be yours for the weekend."

Peggy blushed furiously and pulled her fingers free of his just as the gavel sounded and the crowd roared.

"You'll do lots better than me," she said, and gently shoved him toward the stage. "Go on, handsome. Get out there and knock 'em dead."

Which was exactly what Kanata decided he'd do.

* * *

**missymace**

i demand reviews. hahahaha especially now that there's that big green button with the "Review this Story/Chapter". go click :) i love comments ^.^


	2. Chapter 2

KxM fangirl here.

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

* * *

Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful, the corporate lawyer is the possible heir to Espada, his father's sprawling ranch – and he's up for grabs at a charity auction.

But when Kouzuki Miyu wins Kanata for the weekend, she doesn't claim her prize. _Why_ has the cool blond beauty staked thousands of dollars on Kanata… and then just walked away? Kanata is determined to pursue the lady who bought him, and exact his own price!

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**ii**

**

* * *

**

He went onstage at a brisk trot, arms high overhead, hands clasped in a winner's pose, and did a fair imitation of Sylvester Stallone's victory dance in _Rocky_, while flashing a thousand-watt grin.

The crowd loved it, and roared its approval.

Kanata laughed. What he'd told Peggy was the truth. This wasn't real life. It was for a good cause. And it was fun, or it was supposed to be. If the jerks in his office had made it into something else, that was their problem, not his.

So what if he went for five hundred bucks? So what if he wasn't snapped up by a hot-looking babe? Let everybody at Sawada, Cohen and Vittali have a laugh at his expense. Let 'em lose their crazy bets. He was going to get into the spirit of things, have some fun and do his best to raise a bundle of bucks for kids who really needed—

Uh-oh.

Kanata's smile dimmed just a little as he spotted the lady at the center table nearest the stage. Peggy had certainly nailed it right. The lady was certain to have a great personality. Well, so what? She had a nice smile. Hey, she was probably a nice person. The auctioneer was doing his intro, a bit about Saionji Kanata, Esquire, and Kanata strutted a little more, grinned when somebody let out a piercing wolf whistle and shot a big smile to the lad in the front.

"Do I hear five hundred dollars to start?" the auctioneer said, and the lady with the smile and the personality whooped and said, "How about a thousand?"

A cheer went up and Kanata smiled, and looked at her, looked past her…

And thought, just for a second, that his heart was going to leap straight out of his chest.

A woman was standing behind the last tables. He knew, right away, she was the latecomer Peggy had described.

She was also the most beautiful woman Kanata had ever seen in his life.

Peggy had said she was blonde and green-eyed. With great hair, a great face and a great body.

All correct. And all wrong, because those words didn't come anywhere close to describing her.

Her hair was a cascade silk a shade darker than the bright sun, her eyes emerald orbs with a hint of fierceness in them. Her face was a perfect oval, with those incredible green eyes darkly lashed and wide-set under slender, arched brows. She had a proud, straight nose, a sexy indentation above her mouth…

Oh, that mouth. The full upper lip. The softly curved lower one.

It was a mouth made for kissing.

His gaze dropped lower, to the tanned shoulders left bare by a halter-necked dress the color of garnets, tot the generous lift of her breasts, the slender waist and rounded hips. Her skirt ended midthigh, revealing a long length of shapely legs.

His blood hummed in his ears.

He wanted her. Wanted her with a primal need and desire that surpassed anything he'd ever known. He wanted to kiss that mouth, caress that body…and melt the coldness that clung to her like an invisible sheath of ice. He could see it in her posture. In the way she didn't so much as blink when his eyes met hers again. In the defiant lift of her chin.

He knew she could see the frank, sexual appraisal in his gaze—and that it didn't matter a damn to her.

Look all you like, she seemed to say, but don't be foolish enough to think you can have what you see.

Kanata felt his body tighten. The sounds of the cheering women, the drone of the auctioneer, faded to a dull roar.

He imagined himself coming down off that stage. Going to her. Taking her in his arms. No words. No niceties. Just taking her in his arms, carrying her out of the ballroom to a place where they'd be alone, ripping that piece of dark red silk from her body and burying himself deep inside her while she wrapped her arms and legs around him…

Oh, hell.

He was standing in front of hundreds of people, thinking things that could only bring a man public humiliation. Stop it, he told himself fiercely, and he tore his gaze from her, thought about cold showers and forced himself to focus on the delighted faces of the crowd.

"I have five thousand," the auctioneer shouted. "Do I hear six?"

"Six," the lady in the front yelled.

Kanata fixed his attention on her. He flashed a sexy smile. She squealed. He turned his back to the audience, looked over his shoulder and pretended he was going to slip his jacket off.

The crowd whooped and cheered.

"Six-five," a brunette shouted. Kanata turned and blew her a kiss.

He didn't need the blonde Ice Princess. He had a trio of women in a frenzied bidding war over him. What more could a guy ask?

"Seven," a stunning redhead said.

"Hey," he shouted, "I'm worth a lot more than that!"

The crowd stamped its well-shod feet in approval. The brunette laughed, and another redhead shot to her feet. "Seven-five," she called, and everybody cheered and applauded.

Kanata grinned. The guy from Haruya and Murphy had gone for five.

"I'm worth more than that, too," he yelled.

The crowd loved it.

"Eight," the lady in front said.

"Eight-five," the brunette shouted.

"Nine!"

Kanata laughed. The evening he'd dreaded was turning out to be fun. One more glance at the blonde, that was all, before the gavel swung down. Not that it mattered. He'd probably overestimated her looks. If she'd walked farther into the room so that she was closer to the stage, he'd have seen her flaws.

What flaws?

She _had_ come closer, while he bidding was raging. She was almost at the stage and Lord, she wasn't beautiful, she was spectacular.

And she was looking at him. Her expression was difficult to read. Interested, yes, but it seemed…

Speculative. As if she were appraising him. And finding him wanting.

Kanata's hands knotted at his sides as the woman turned swiftly and started back up the aisle.

Who did this babe think she was, to check him out and then walk away? Turn around, he thought furiously, turn around!

The woman's pace increased.

Kanata took a step forward. To hell with the auction!

"Nine thousand," the auctioneer shouted, and the crowd roared. "Nine thousand once. Nine thousand twice…"

"Ten," the brunette screamed.

The blonde woman stopped. That's it, baby, Kanata thought. Turn around. Look at me.

And she did. Her eyes met his. Their gazes locked, and held. For one breathless moment, there was no one else in the room, no one else in the universe. It was only them. Kanata, and the woman.

She knew it, too.

He saw her acknowledge it as her eyes widened, saw the impact of the understanding in the sudden, rapid rise and fall of her breasts. The tip of her tongue—a pale, silken pink—slipped over her soft-looking mouth.

Kanata's eyes bored into hers. Do it, he thought. Do it, do it…

"Going once," the auctioneer said, "to the lady at table three, for ten thousand dollars. Going twice. Going—"

"Twenty thousand dollars."

The crowd gasped. Every head swiveled toward the woman with the blond hair. Even the auctioneer leaned forward.

"Would you repeat your bid, please, madam?"

The woman took a deep breath. Kanata thought he saw her tremble but he knew he must have been mistaken, because when she spoke again, her voice was cool, controlled, and touched with something that bordered on amusement.

"I said, I bid twenty thousand dollars."

Bang went the gavel. "Sold," the auctioneer said, triumphantly, "to the lady in red."

And the crowd in the ballroom of the Hotel Paradise went wild.

* * *

**missymace**

let's get the ball rolling in the next chapter :)


	3. Chapter 3

KxM fangirl here.

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

* * *

Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful, the corporate lawyer is the possible heir to Espada, his father's sprawling ranch – and he's up for grabs at a charity auction.

But when Kouzuki Miyu wins Kanata for the weekend, she doesn't claim her prize. _Why_ has the cool blond beauty staked thousands of dollars on Kanata… and then just walked away? Kanata is determined to pursue the lady who bought him, and exact his own price!

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**iii**

**

* * *

**

The bang of the gavel echoed through the ballroom, but it wasn't as loud as the sudden thump of Kouzuki Miyu's heart.

"Sold," the auctioneer shouted. "Sold to the lady in red."

The lady in red, she thought numbly…

Miyu thought, for an instant, her legs would buckle. She bowed her head and gripped the chair in front of her. She'd come here to buy a man, and she had. A man named Saionji Kanata.

_A stud named Saionji Kanata_, a little voice inside her said coldly. It was true. The man onstage was every inch a stud, if looks and attitude were anything to go by…

And now, she owned him.

Why on earth had she done something so stupid? Seiya's words had hurt, yes, but so what? Their divorce was two years old. She didn't miss Seiya, or love him; she knew now that she never really had. So, why should anything he said, _anything_, still haunt her? And the rest of her plan, if you could call it that, was not just stupid but sick. A woman didn't just—a woman couldn't just—

Awareness sizzled through her blood.

He was looking at her. Every nerve ending in her body was screaming it.

Don't Miyu told herself, don't lift your head…

Stopping the rotation of the planet would have been easier. Miyu caught her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly raised her eyes to the stage.

Her heart did it again, just as it had when he'd first looked at her. It took that leap within her breast that made the room spin. Saionji Kanata hadn't moved. Those hot amber eyes still fixed on her as if he was a hawk and she was his prey. There was a smile of pure masculine satisfaction, tilting across his mouth—that sensual mouth—she could almost feel on her own. Everything about him, from the set of his broad shoulders, the way he stood, with his long legs planted slightly apart, sent a message, and the message was unmistakable.

I am a man, he was saying. And you are a woman. And when you and I are alone…

Panic whispered along Miyu's skin. She would _never_ be alone with this man, or with any other. She had learned that much from her marriage. Forgetting that lesson, tonight, had been an aberration, a foolish reaction to an overheard whisper that had called back painful memories.

What did she give a damn, if Seiya had told his new wife she was frigid? Let him say what he liked, so long as he was no longer saying it to her.

Miyu tore her gaze from Saionji Kanata's. People were crowding around her, offering congratulations.

"What will you do with that gorgeous hunk for an entire weekend?" a woman said, and a roar of laughter went up.

She knew it was only a joke. The auction was a legitimate fund-raiser. What the winners did with their bachelors was play tennis, or golf, go dancing or to dinner…

Except, that wasn't what she'd intended to do with him.

The thought was enough to send another wave of panic rolling through her blood. Miyu smiled. She hoped she smiled, anyway, and laughed, and said she'd think of something…

With the laughter still ringing in her ears, she fled up the aisle toward the double doors that led to the lobby, and to sanity.

"Mrs. Yaboshi?"

Just keep walking, Miyu. Smile, and keep….

"Mrs. Yaboshi." A hand clasped her arm.

Miyu shook off the hand. "No," she said…and looked into the puzzled face of a gray-haired woman.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Yaboshi. I didn't mean to startle you."

Miyu swallowed, pulled her lips into another parody of a smile. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

The woman smiled, too, and looped her arm through Miyu's. "We've met before. Mrs. Yaboshi. Perhaps you'll recall? I'm Barbara Rhodes. Our husbands served on the water conservation committee together."

"My ex-husband," Miyu said. "I use my maiden name. I'm Kouzuki Miyu now."

The woman winced. "Yes, of course. Sorry. I'd forgotten."

"That's quite all right. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Oh, I know you're in a hurry to pay for your purchase."

"My purchase," Miyu said, and felt the color shoot into her face.

"Yes. We've set up a desk, in the lobby." The woman led Miyu toward the double doors. "But I wanted to take a moment to thank you, personally, for making tonight's high bid."

"Ah." Miyu smiled again and wondered if it were possible for your lips to stick to your teeth. "No need," she said brightly. "I'm more than happy to—help out."

"If only everyone felt that way. But let me tell you, Ms. Kouzuki, they don't. As chairperson of the auction these last two years, I know how rarely people make such generous donations."

"Yes." Someone batted the doors open and Miyu and the chairperson stepped through them. "Well, I know—I know what fine work you organization does, Mrs. Rhodes…"

"Have you decided what you'll do with your bachelor, Ms. Kouzuki?"

Miyu swallowed dryly. "No. No, I… Actually, I doubt if I'll, ah, if I'll use him at all, Mrs. Rhodes. I, uh, I already have plans for the weekend."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Miyu came to a stop, opened her beaded purse and dug inside it. "Look, why don't we do this right now? I'll make out a check, give it to you—"

"Well, you're supposed to pay at the desk… Oh, never mind. I'm happy to make an accommodation for you."

Miyu took out her checkbook. "The Children's Hospital Fund, right?" Her hands were trembling. Could she write out the check and sign it so it was legible? She scrawled the name of the fund and the amount she'd bid—the incredible amount she'd bid, for a man she could only pray she'd never see again—signed her name, ripped out the check and handed it to the chairwoman, who beamed happily and clutched it to her ample breasts.

"Wonderful, Ms. Kouzuki. And now…"

"And now," Miyu said with false gaiety. "I'll just be on my way."

"Certainly. But first, if we could just prevail upon you to stay for a few pictures, while you dance with Mr. Saionji. For publicity purposes, you understand."

Miyu shook her head. "No! I mean, I just explained, I have plans…"

"For the weekend. Yes, but this will only take a few minutes." The woman took Miyu's arm. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Not a thing." Miyu said briskly.

"Oh, he's a fascinating man. So handsome! And those cowboy boots…" The chairwoman sighed. "Oh, if I were only twenty years younger. Unmarried. Well, and forty pounds lighter…"

She laughed gaily, and Miyu tried to do the same.

"It will only take a minute, Ms. Kouzuki." She beamed a happy smile in Miyu's direction. "The TV people are here. If you and your bachelor could give them a few pictures. And short interview? It would be wonderful publicity for the auction."

"He's not 'my' bachelor," Miyu said, rushing the words together. "You don't understand, Mrs. Rhodes. I've no time to do any of this. Really, I can't…"

"But you can, Ms. Kouzuki," a deep voice said. "And you will."

Miyu froze. The tempo of her heartbeat increased to something a rock-and-roll drummer would have envied. She took a quick step back and knew, too late, that she'd mad yet another mistake because stepping back brought her into contact with the hard, male body that belonged to the voice.

Barbara Rhodes's eyebrows flew toward her hairline, and Miyu knew her fear must have shown in her face. So she took a deep breath, gave a wobbly smile and said, "Oh, dear, I can see that I'm trapped." And then, still smiling, still feeling the race of her pulse in her throat, she turned and looked up into the face of Saionji Kanata.

"Hello, Sugar," he said softly, and smiled.

Onstage, he'd looked handsome and masculine. But up close—up close…

Miyu's heartbeat ratcheted up another notch.

Up close, he was spectacular.

Tall. Tall enough so even she, at five-eight in her stocking feet, had to tilt her head back to look up to him, and she'd worn ridiculously high heels tonight, to go with the equally ridiculous dress. Tall, and gorgeous, with those hot eyes. And a nose that surely had once been broken. And that mouth. That sexy, almost cruel mouth.

Mrs. Rhodes was right. The man she'd won was handsome. He was gorgeous. He was the fulfillment of every wild, middle-of-the-night dream she'd ever had, in the long-ago days when she'd still been foolish enough to dream.

And he was dangerous. Even she could tell that.

_What were you thinking tonight, Miyu?_

The chairwoman looked from Miyu to Kanata, and then she let out a girlish laugh. "Well, I can see I'm not needed anymore."

"No," Kanata said bluntly, his eyes never leaving Kouzuki Miyu's. "No, you're not."

"My." Mrs. Rhodes fanned her face with Miyu's check. "My, oh my. Uh, thank you again, Mrs….Ms. Kouzuki. And thank you, too, Mr. Saionji. If you need anything, anything at all…"

Kanata reached out, took Miyu's arm and drew her away from the chairwoman.

"Which is it?" he said.

Miyu blinked. "I—I beg your pardon?"

"She called you Mrs. Then she called you Ms."

His hand tightened on her arm. Miyu looked down, saw the darkness of his fingers against the paleness of her skin. And forced herself to take a deep, deep breath.

"It's…" _Lie. Tell him you're married. Tell him anything. Just get away. Get away, while you can…_ "It's…" Her eyes met his. "If I said it was Mrs. Would you go away?"

He smiled. The smile made his mouth tilt and his eyes get even darker. Most of all, it made her stomach drop toward her toes.

"Not until you introduced me to your husband, so I could see for myself what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave a woman like you so unsatisfied that she'd look at a stranger with so much hunger."

Color flooded Miyu's cheeks. "Mr. Saionji—"

"Are you married, or aren't you?"

"I'm divorced. And if you think I looked—that I looked…"

"I don't think, Sugar. I know."

Kanata slid his hand down her arm, to her wrist. He'd thought of all the things he'd say to this woman as he'd battled his way through the crowd toward her. Subtle things. Soft things. How beautiful she was. What he'd felt at the sight of her. But standing close to her, with the scent of her in his nostrils and the silken feel of her skin under his fingertips, he'd suddenly known that there was no reason to be subtle, or cautious. He was on fire, and so was she, and he'd be damned if he'd play games.

"You need me," he said, very softly. "And I need you. And I promise you, we'll satisfy our needs before this night ends."

His words should have shocked her. Instead, they excited her. Miyu felt her body turning molten with heat. His voice was like warm, heavy cream, pouring over her, through her. She looked into those deep amber eyes and thought, yes, he could do that for me, he could…

_Miyu_, the little voice within her said sharply, _whatever are you thinking?_

Carefully, politely, she disengaged her hand from his.

"I'm sure that line works wonderfully wherever it is you come from, Mr. Saionji."

Kanata's eyes narrowed. "Is that what you think that was?"

"And an interesting one, I must admit." Generations of good breeding, couple with four years as Seiya Yaboshi's wife, made it possible to offer a cool smile. "But I'm afraid you've misread the situation."

"You're lying," he said bluntly.

Miyu gave a trilling laugh. "I'll try not to take offense at that, Mr. Saionji. Perhaps such comments are acceptable, in your part of the world."

"That's the second time you've made that reference." Kanata folded his arms and rocked back on his boot heels. "Is that the problem here? That you're figuring me for a cowboy, and ladies like you don't sleep with the hired help?"

Miyu flushed. "If you're trying to be obnoxious, Mr. Saionji, let me assure you, you're succeeding."

"I'm being honest, Ms. Kouzuki. Which is more that you're doing."

"Mr. Saionji. I am, truly, sorry if you've misunderstood the purpose of the auction. It's a charitable event. And I support a great many charities. I've already given the chairwoman my check. And now I've had the—" she paused, almost imperceptibly "—the pleasure of meeting you, sir."

His eyes narrowed. Later, she'd remember that and realize it had been a warning. But right then, analytical thinking was =beyond her. All she could think of was escape.

"What you're sayin', Ms. Kouzuki, is that you're givin' me the brush-off."

His voice had softened, picked up the faintest drawl. Well, that explained a lot. Cowboy, ranch hand, whatever. She'd missed the description of him, and she hadn't seen the auction catalog, but it didn't matter. She'd figured him right. He wasn't from around here. The auction committee had probably recruited him from a modeling agency, or maybe from Actor's Equity. Los Angeles was filled with men like him, men who'd come here with dreams of stardom.

Wherever he came from, he was accustomed to a macho swagger. It might help him make the cover of _GQ_. It would probably gain him admittance to a lot of L.A. bedrooms, but—

But not her.

Her behavior back in the ballroom, all that thunder and lightning that had seemed to flash between them, had been the result of remembering how Seiya had humiliated her. How even now, with him out of her life, he could still humiliate and infuriate her. Even hurt her.

It had nothing to do with Saionji Kanata, who was too handsome for his own good, and too untamed for hers.

"Am I right, Ms. Kouzuki? Am I getting' the old heave-ho?"

Miyu tilted her head and looked at him with polite interest. A cowboy, and with a dented ego.

Ah, how quickly things had changed.

This was her turf, not his. Too bad he'd learn it the hard way. Too bad she'd come close to forgetting it. She was Kouzuki Miyu. Buying a man, indeed. Thinking she'd take him to her bed, and for what? To prove something to an ex-husband she didn't give a damn about? She had nothing to prove to anyone, certainly not to herself.

All right, so she'd come rushing to the auction in a mood that was foolish and potentially dangerous. And yes, she'd done a dumb thin, making that bid. But she'd almost done something even more foolish, fleeing. People would talk about her bid for days. Weeks, maybe, until some better bit of gossip came along. Did she want them to also talk about the way she'd run out of the hotel?

She knew what she dad to do.

Play out the game. Coolly, with sophistication. A touch of wry humor would be nice. Make it obvious that she'd bid on this man for fun, that she'd done it because she'd wanted to do it, not because of anything more personal.

And not because of the way she'd suddenly felt—suddenly imagined she'd felt—when Saionji Kanata's eyes had met hers.

The ballroom had emptied out. Those people who'd attended the auction were standing around the lobby in little knots, shooting glances at the two of them with barely concealed interest.

Well, she'd give them something to watch, but not something to remember.

Miyu looked up. The cowboy hadn't taken his eyes off her. His expression was still intent. Beyond that,, she couldn't read him at all. That troubled her a little, but not much. The balance of power had shifted. She had the upper hand now, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was how to use power.

"I'm not giving you the brush-off, Mr. Saionji." She lifted her arm, her brows drawing together as she glanced at the tine gold-and-diamond watch on her wrist. "I do have another appointment. But—"

"Break it."

She laughed gaily, as if he'd made a joke. "Oh, I can't possibly do that. But I do understand my obligations." Still smiling, she laid her hand lightly on his arm. "If you'd be good enough to lead the way into the room that's been set aside for the after-auction party, I'll give you one dance."

"Give it to me?" he said, very softly.

She heard the edge in those simple words and felt the muscles in his arm bunch beneath her fingers. But she was still riding the heady rush that came of knowing both her feet were back on solid ground, and she heard what he said as she wanted to, as an affirmation of which of them had taken control.

"That's right. Perhaps I'll even permit a quick interview." The sound of music drifted from a nearby doorway and she raised her voice, just a little, to be heard over it. "And then, of course, I'll be on my way. You do understand, don't you?"

Oh, yeah, Kanata thought, he understood, all right. The Ice Princess had asked him to escort her to the party but it was only a formality. It had been an exercise of privilege and power; how could a man who'd grown up surrounded by such things not recognize it? She was in charge here; the arrogant smile on her face said as much. Without waiting for his reply, she turned and made her way toward the music, confident that he would follow.

A muscle bunched in his jaw. Kouzuki Miyu figured she was playing him for a fool, playing Lady of the Manor to his Bumbling Cowboy. It made him angry as hell, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

Not yet.

He set off after her, as if he'd accepted the part she'd given him.

None of what was happening surprised him. He'd known something was up, after she'd made the winning bid. He'd seen the look on her lovely face go from wanton desire to disbelief. When she'd turned to flee, he'd started to go after her but the other bachelors had rushed on stage to congratulate him and make jokes at his expense. He'd tried to break fee but when he saw Barbara Rhodes stop Miyu before she got away, he'd made himself stand still and endure the good-natured banter.

By the time he'd finally broken loose, he'd felt like an over-wound spring.

Peggy, the Slave Mistress, had come running up to him, as he started off the stage.

"You see?" she'd crowed happily. "What did I tell you, handsome? You didn't have a thing to worry about."  
"What's her name?" he'd asked, and Peggy must have heard the tightness in his voice because she hadn't teased him or laughed, she'd simply said she'd asked the same question.

"Kouzuki Miyu."

"Married? Or single?"

"I don't know."

He'd nodded his thanks and begun to turn away when Peggy put her hand on his arm.

"Handsome?"

"Yes?" he'd said, impatiently.

"She's not for you."

"Yeah. Thanks for the advice."

"I'm serious. Remember what I said about her being an Ice Princess?"

Kanata had looked squarely at Peggy. "You were wrong."

"No. No, I wasn't. Girl who told me the lady's name said she's got a freezer where her heart's supposed to be."

Kanata had smiled. "It's not the lady's heart I'm interested in," he'd said, and then he'd gone down into the crowd, barely acknowledging the slaps o the back and the cheers from Kurosu Santa and the other guys he worked with, pushing through everybody until, at last, he'd reached the lobby—and saw Kouzuki Miyu.

She'd still been talking with the chairwoman. Her back was to him, and he'd treated himself to the pleasure of the view. All that golden hair, streaming over her shoulders. The straight, elegant back, naked almost to the base of her spine. The gently rounded bottom, outlined in the silk garnet skirt. And those legs, those endless legs, encased in black hose that tapered down to shoes with heels high enough to make a man's mouth water.

He'd wondered what he'd find beneath that sinful excuse of a dress, when he took it off her later tonight. A black lace bra, with a matching garter belt? A scrap of silk that might be called a pair of panties?

Kanata had felt his body tighten.

Or would there be nothing under that dress except the garter belt, and the sexy stockings?

His fingers itched with the need to find out.

He'd started toward her, then slowed his pace.

Something was wrong. It was in the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her head. He'd looked past the Kouzuki woman, to the gray-haired chairwoman. She was smiling but there was no mistaking the earnest look on her face. She was making some sort of pitch.

He got closer, and heard enough to know he was right.

"It will only take a few minutes," she was saying. "If you and your bachelor could give the TV people a few pictures and a short interview, it would be wonderful publicity for the auction."

"He's not 'my' bachelor," Kouzuki Miyu had said. "You don't understand, Mrs. Rhodes. I'm not staying. Really, I can't."

Kanata had stepped up behind her and told her that she could stay, that she _should_ stay. For some reason, he'd gone heavy on the Texas drawl that was always just a heartbeat away. "Sugar," he'd called her, liking the way her eyes flared a little at the name. she'd been off balance, fighting something inside her—and then, suddenly, it had all changed.

It had been like seeing a woman pull a veil over her face. Or a mask. Yeah, that was it. Kouzuki Miyu had disappeared behind a mask, and it wasn't the first time it had happened tonight. It was just that he'd misread it, before. She hadn't gone from naked longing to confusion, she'd gone from longing to disbelief. Either she didn't know she was capable of that kind of desire or she didn't want to know it. Now, she was covering it with her Lady of the Manor act.

Covering, and she'd blamed him for it.

Instinct, as well as anger, urged him to take her in his arms and kiss that haughty smile from her face. With an arrogance that was more than a match for hers, he knew he could not only make her want him again, but he could make her beg him for the release only he could bring her, once she was in his arms.

Intelligence—what little he had left of it, considering the way his hormones were pumping—warmed him that to do so would be a mistake. The thing to do was play along and see where Kouzuki Miyu imagined this would end.

Polite applause sprang up as he led him to the cent of the dance floor. Barbara Rhodes must have seen them coming. The orchestra stopped in midbeat, and the chairwoman took hold of the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to give you Ms. Kouzuki Miyu and her prize!"

Laughter, and more applause. Miyu smiled and turned toward Kanata, but her smile faltered when she saw the way he was looking at her. The orchestra began playing. The music was lush and romantic. Kanata reached out and gathered her into his arms.

"Are you a good dancer, Ms. Kouzuki?" he said softly. "Do you know how to let your body find the right rhythm?"

"I'm an excellent dancer. But I don't like to he held so tightly."

Kanata smiled and drew her closer. "You seem stiff in my arms. Is it because you haven't—" his pause was slow and deliberate "—because you haven't—danced—enough, lately?"

Miyu colored. "I don't know what you mean."

"Maybe you haven't had the right man. To dance with, I mean."

Her color deepened. What pleasure it was, to chip away at that arrogant composure and autocratic veneer.

"I could lead you in steps you've only dreamed of, Ms. Kouzuki. All you have to do is admit that you want me for your teacher."

"That's enough!"

Miyu tried to pull back but Kanata's arm tightened around her. "Why did you pay twenty thousand bucks for me, Sugar?" He smiled through his teeth. "Your face is like an open book, Ms. Kouzuki. You're torn between wanting to sock me in the jaw and turning tail and running like a scared rabbit."

"I never run from anything." Miyu's voice hummed with fury. "But you've certainly got the first part right."

"Either way, five hundred people are watching us. And there's a TV camera pointed in our direction. Do you really want to make headlines, Ms. Kouzuki?"

"You're a horrible man!"

"I'm an honest one. You paid a lot of money for me, and it didn't have a damned thing to do with charity."

"You overestimate your charm, sir."

"You paid it so you could go to bed with a man who'd make you feel something. And then you turned chicken."

Miyu stopped moving. Kanata did, too. She looked up at him, eyes blazing. "I really, really despise you!"

Kanata laughed. "Ah, darlin', where's all that hauteur gone to? I know that's a mighty big word for a cowboy to use but I never said I was a cowboy, Ms. Kouzuki. You were the one who decided that."

The music changed, became waltz. Kanata began moving in time with it. There was no choice. Miyu began moving, too.

He circled the room with her in his arms, faster and faster, holding her so that her body was pressed to his. Her breasts, her thighs… God, how he wanted her. He could almost feel the heat of her, burning his skin. Yes, hatred blazed in her eyes but he knew women, and desire. And he could see something more in those eyes, besides hatred.

"What are you afraid to admit, Miyu?"

His whisper was velvet-soft. Miyu felt breathless. How had this happened? How had he taken control?

"I'm not afraid of anything." Even she could hear the tremor in her voice.

"Then tell me the truth," he said roughly. "Admit that you want me."

"I don't!"

Kanata laughed. "Liar," he said, and whirled her faster and faster.

* * *

**missymace**

we've got quite a different Kanata in this one. bear with me :) i've got something nice for us to squeal on in the next one :)


	4. Chapter 4

KxM fangirl here.

* * *

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful, the corporate lawyer is the possible heir to Espada, his father's sprawling ranch – and he's up for grabs at a charity auction.

But when Kouzuki Miyu wins Kanata for the weekend, she doesn't claim her prize. _Why_ has the cool blond beauty staked thousands of dollars on Kanata… and then just walked away? Kanata is determined to pursue the lady who bought him, and exact his own price!

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**iv

* * *

**

It was a hell of a time to think of Hosho, but suddenly his father's voice was in his head.

"So now you think you're gonna fight for truth and justice," he said, the day Kanata had been admitted to the Bar. "Well, lemme tell you somethin', boy. Only winners get justice, and liars never see the truth until you rub their noses in it."

For the first time, Kanata decided Hosho might be right. There was only one thing to do, and he did it. He danced Kouzuki Miyu into a corner, bet her over his arm, and crushed her mouth beneath his.

He heard the insulted hiss of her breath, felt her first frantic struggles…and then, with a little sigh, she parted her lips and let him in.

He whispered her name, drew her up, gathered her into his arms. Her heart raced against his; her slender arms were cool as she looped them around his neck. She tasted like honey; she smelled like springtime. God, how he wanted her. How he needed her…

A cheer. A smattering of applause. Appreciative, pleasant laughter.

He heard them, but he didn't give a damn. Miyu did. She tore her mouth from his, dropped her arms and flattened her palms against his chest.

"Stop it," she hissed.

He lifted his head and gave her a sexy smile that said the kiss was only the beginning. And why wouldn't he? Miyu shuddered. She'd been kissing him the way she'd never kissed a man in her life. But he had no way of knowing that. Kissing him right here, in front of all these people. He smiled into her eyes. "It's going to be one hell of a weekend, Sugar."

His voice was low, rough, and filled with promise. He was still holding her, his hands at her waist, which was a good thing because she felt boneless. Dizzy. She felt – she felt…

"Miyu? Kanata? Could you look this way, please?"

Miyu swung around blindly. The TV camera was pointed at her; a smiling reporter poked a microphone into her face. She had always thought it was horrible, how intrusive reporters could be. Now, she welcomed the woman as if the microphone were a lifeline.

"Yes," she said brightly, and stepped free of Kanata's grasp, "certainly. We'd be delighted."

The interview went on for what seemed to be hours, though Kanata knew it could not have been more than a few minutes.

He didn't like reporters. There'd always been somebody poking a nose and a camera where it didn't belong when he was growing up on Espada. His father relished being the center of attention but neither Kanata, his brothers nor his stepsister enjoyed it at all.

Tonight, Kanata found himself welcoming – well, almost welcoming – the stupid questions and the phony smiles.

Kouzuki Miyu was doing most of the talking. She made it sound as if their kiss had been a clever piece of theatrics, hinting, with smiles and girlish laughter, that the two of them had planned it while they'd been talking in the lobby.

Whatever spin she wanted to put on it was fine with him. If she could come up with something clever, amen. Hey, he wasn't thinking at all. Near as he could tell, his brain had ceased to function as soon as he'd taken his first look at her.

He like women, like to come on to them. The delicacy of their bones. The subtlety of their scent. The way they laughed, and smiled. He enjoyed their company, their conversation. And making love with a woman was the closest to paradise a man could come.

The thing was, though, he never made love with an audience watching.

What was the sense in kidding himself? He wasn't just brain dead, he was being led around by the part of his anatomy that was the least reliable, to do what he'd been doing to Kouzuki Miyu, right in the middle of the dance floor. That kiss had been as erotic as anything he'd ever shared with a woman in the privacy of a bed.

_Be honest, Saionji_. Some of the things he'd done in bed hadn't been as erotic as that kiss.

It had been that way for her, too. He knew what that sexy little moan had meant, knew from the feel of her in his arms that she'd been as ready as he'd been. He understood the touch of her tongue against his, the gentle pressure of her teeth…

"…Mr. Saionji?"

He blinked. The ditzy reporter was talking to him, holding out her mike as if it were the Holy Grail.

"Excuse me?" he said, and she smiled even more brightly and repeated her question.

He smiled back. Yes, uh-huh, he'd had a great time tonight. No, of course he hadn't been nervous. Who could be nervous, when it was all for charity?

They were going to love this interview, at Sawada, Cohen and Vittali.

Now it was Kouzuki Miyu's turn. The reporter turned her painted-on smile in her direction.

"And what brought you here this evening, Ms. Kouzuki?"

Miyu hesitated for a second, then began talking about her lifelong commitment to charity. Kanata pretended to listen , and smiled like an idiot. If she wasn't lying, he was a monkey's uncle.

Whatever had brought her here tonight didn't have anything to do with charity. He'd seen the look on her face, the wildness in her eyes. Something had driven her to this auction, and he need to know what that something was.

But what had made her bid on him was easy to figure.

It had been desire. A desire that raged so fiercely within her that he'd felt its force on the stage. The same desire that made her melt in his arms moments ago when he'd kissed her.

That first rigidity of her body, and then the way she'd shuddered and come alive in his arms. The feel of her breasts, pressed against his chest. Her lips, parting to give him access to the honeyed essence of her mouth. The whisper of sound that had spoken of surrender…

He knew he'd never forget it. There was no point pretending he didn't' have a long history with women. Still, that kiss, that incredible kiss, was different from anything he'd ever known.

Kanata shifted his weight. What was he doing to himself? Another couple of seconds, the TV camera and the crowd were going to be treated to a sight he'd never live down. It was time to take this strange little play to a private setting, where the next scene could be played out, in full.

He slipped his arm around Miyu's waist, his hand splaying against her hip in warning.

"Okay," he said cheerfully, breaking into the middle of some inanity of the reporter. "Okay, folks, that's it."

The little knot of journalists groaned. One of the began to ask another question but Kanata just kept smiling. And talking.

"Hey, guys, don't you think Ms. Kouzuki and I are entitled to a little time alone?"

"You have a three-day weekend to be along," one of them said, and they all laughed.

"And a weekend to plan," Kanata said. He looked down at Miyu. "Right, Ms. Kouzuki?"

"Right, Mr. Saionji," she said, flashing him a smile that was vaguely reminiscent of the snarl of an angry Doberman.

"I just love that old-fashioned formality," the reporter gushed. "Mr., Ms…. So charming!"

Kanata laughed merrily as he began backing Miyu form the dance floor. "Well," he said, "Ms. Kouzuki is just an old-fashioned girl."

As if on cue, the orchestra struck up another waltz. Come on, Kanata thought, come on!

People surged onto the floor to dance.

Kanata didn't waste any time. He let go of Miyu's waist, grabbed her hand and all but sprinted for the door. She tried to tug fee when they were halfway through the lobby but his fingers tightened on hers.

"Keep going," he said, and led her out the main doors past the doorman and down the wide marble steps. Anybody watching would figure they were making a romantic getaway and she dug in her spiked heels, wrenched her hand from his and spun toward him.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing?" she said, turning her angry face up to his.

"Calm down, Sugar."

Miyu stamped her foot. "Kindly do not 'sugar' me!"

"My car is parked just up the street."

"Do you really think I give a dam where your car is parked?" Miyu tossed her head. "Listen to me, Mr. Saionji, and listen well. You are, without question, the most horrible man I ever—"

Kanata rolled his eyes, grabbed her wrist and tugged her down the street and into a doorway.

"Don't you ever think before you make a scene, lady? Or do you like being in the spotlight?"

"I cherish my privacy."

"Yeah, well, you've got a strange way of showing it." He waved his hand in the general direction of the main entrance to the Hotel Paradise. "What makes you so sure that nitwit reporter and her bozo cameraman weren't hot on our heels, huh?"

He could see her face pale a little, even in the darkness of the doorway.

"Were they?"

He leaned out and looked. "No," he snapped. "But you didn't even think about it before you started chewing me out. Just once, you might try thinking of the consequences before you act."

"Me? Me, think of the consequences?" Miyu threw back her head. "Ha," she said, without the least touch of humor, "oh, ha, Mr. Saionji, that is a good one! That's really something, coming from you."

Kanata folded his arms. "I," he said loftily, "am not the person who got us into this mess."

And now that he thought about it, it _was_ a mess. He'd make an idiot of himself, prancing around onstage. And then the Kouzuki babe had made an idiot of herself, running away. And just now—he'd kissed her in front of a zillion people in a way he'd probably never, ever live down.

"I am the innocent party in this entire unfortunate affair, sir!"

"Hey, Sugar. Don't you pull that Ice Princess bit on me."

"Are you deaf, Mr. Saionji? Do not call me 'sugar.'"

"Forgive me, _Ms_. Kouzuki!" His mouth thinned and he shoved his face toward hers. Despite herself, Miyu took a hurried step back. "Princess suits you," he muttered. "That little lady'll never know how right she was!"

"What little lady?"

"Never mind." A muscle knotted in Kanata's cheek. "The bottom line here is that I am tired of being the villain in the piece."

"Are you suggesting that I am?"

"_You_ bid on me, remember?"

Color shot into her face. "Permit me to refresh your memory, Mr. Saionji. This was a bachelor auction. The whole purpose of the event was for women to bid on men."

"Uh-huh."

"What, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you didn't have to bid so much for me that you brought the house down."

"I don't have to listen to this—"

Kanata grabbed her shoulder as Miyu tried to brush past him. "And then," he growled, "as if you hadn't drawn enough attention to us already—"

"_I_ drew attention?" Miyu tossed back her head and laughed. "Oh, I love that, Mr. Saionji. _I_ wasn't up on that stage, prancing around like a—a male stripper!"

A smile tilted across Kanata's mouth. He shifted his weight so that he blocked the doorway. All Miyu could see were his broad shoulders and his ruggedly handsome face, only that and the dark night that surrounded them.

* * *

**missymace**

i give my most heartfelt apology for this delay.

kill me now for i have broken a promise i should have kept. T.T dumbo has crashed. but a dear friend fixed him up again. hurray!

anyways. i don't care if anyone dislikes my current character descriptions. this is my story and it goes to my liking. and that means i get to make kanata uber smexy in this story. i do hope you enjoy this kind of kanata as well. :))

to those patiently waiting.. here you are.

to those who weren't patient....... indulge. ^.^

more sexy kanata in the next chapter **drool**

i just remembered! this actually serves as my anniversary chapter. woot woot!


	5. Chapter 5

KxM fangirl here.

* * *

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

Surely Saionji Kanata is a man for whom any woman would want to bid! Blisteringly handsome and immensely successful, the corporate lawyer is the possible heir to Espada, his father's sprawling ranch – and he's up for grabs at a charity auction.

But when Kouzuki Miyu wins Kanata for the weekend, she doesn't claim her prize. _Why_ has the cool blond beauty staked thousands of dollars on Kanata… and then just walked away? Kanata is determined to pursue the lady who bought him, and exact his own price!

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**v **

* * *

Her heart skipped a beat.

They were on a street in a busy city but she suddenly felt as if they were the last man and woman on Earth. It was the same way she'd felt when, with bravado in her blood and idiocy in her brain, she'd burst into the ballroom and spotted him onstage. The same way she'd felt on the dance floor, when he'd kissed her.

"Exactly how many male strippers have you watched in your time, Ms. Kouzuki?" he said softly.

"Mr. Saionji." Her voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and began again. "Mr. Saionji, really. I think we should just call it a night and—" Miyu caught her breath. Kanata had caught a strand of her hair between his fingers. She watched wide-eyed, as he drew it to his nostrils. "What—what are you doing?"

"I like the smell of your hair, Princess. What is that? Opium? Joy?"

"It's—it's just…" She stepped back again as he moved closer. Her shoulders hit the closed door behind her. "I-I don't remember." She didn't, either. She couldn't think straight. Was that breathless little voice really hers? And was she really trembling? Miyu shut her eyes, moaned as Kanata touched his lips to her throat. "Mr. Saionji…"

"Under the circumstances," Kanata said huskily, "I really think we might move on to first names. Don't you, Ms. Kouzuki?"

Didn't she what? Miyu shuddered as his breath warmed her skin. She couldn't think, not while he was—while he was…

"Mr. Saionji—"

"Kanata."

"Kanata. Kanata, really, I think—"

"Yeah. So do I." His arms went around her. He gathered her against him, her breasts against the hard wall of his chest, her thighs against his. She put her hands out to ward him off. Instead somehow, they curled into the lapels of his tuxedo. "I think it's time I kissed you again, Princess, but without an audience."

His mouth came down on hers.

"No," she whispered, "please…"

"Let go, Princess." He kissed her, soft, gentle kisses that make her lips cling to his. "Just let go and do what you want to do."  
his hand slid up, captured her breast, his thumb moving across the silk-covered nipple. And, for the second time that night—for the second time in her entire life—Miyu did what she had never done before.

She let go.

She gave a little cry so wild and plaintive it made his blood quicken. And wrapped her arms around his neck as she rose on her toes and titled her pelvis against his.

Kanata groaned. His mouth slanted hungrily over hers, his tongue seeking and finding access to the silken sweetness of hers. He slipped his hands down her body, following the narrowness of her waist, the soft curve of her hips, and cupped her bottom, lifting her into the hardness of his arousal, moving against her as she cried out against his mouth.

"Miyu," he whispered.

"Yes," she sighed, "oh, yes."

He kissed her shoulder, bit the flesh, bent his head further and sucked the silk-covered center of her breast into his mouth. His hands swept up her thighs, under her skirt; she was wearing what he'd dreamed she was wearing, just those sexy stockings, a scrap of lace and nothing more. He said something she couldn't understand, thrust his hand beneath the lace and cupped her.

She was hot. Wet. The aroused smell of her fueled him with desire. Her sobbing little breaths torched him with flame. And when she kissed his throat, sank her teeth into his flesh, he knew his need for this woman was greater than his need fro breath.

He clasped her hand and brought it to him. She groaned and curved her fingers around him and felt the blood begin to pool in his loins.

"Miyu," he said harshly.

"Please," she whispered, "oh, please, please, please…"

He knew he could have her, now. Right here, right in the doorway. All he had to do was unzip his fly, rip away a bit of lace, bury himself deep inside her…

Someone laughed. Miyu heard it, and froze. Kanata did too.

"Oh God," she whispered.

He put his arms around her. She was trembling. "Easy," he said softly.

The laughter came again, good-natured and distant. He realized it had nothing to do with them. It was coming from somewhere up the street, though it had gotten closer. And then the haze that the clouded his brain cleared and he realized he was standing in a doorway with a woman he'd met less than two hours ago, and there were cars passing by and pedestrians on the sidewalk and he was—he'd been about to—

She must have realized it, too. "Let me go," she whispered frantically, and began struggling to free herself of his embrace.

Kanata held her tighter.

"Damn you, let me—"

"Hold still!"

It was a command, not a request. And a logical one. People were coming; Miyu could hear them. With luck, if neither she nor Kanata moved, whomever was approaching would pass by without noticing them. So she stiffened in his arms and tried not to think about what this—this stranger had been doing to her, seconds ago, what she'd been letting him do.

And for what? To prove that Seiya was wrong? That she wasn't – wasn't a frigid little rich bitch?

Miyu's stomach took a tumble. She closed her eyes. All right. She'd proved it, in the most humiliating way possible. Proved it to herself and to this man she didn't know, a man who surely hadn't turned her on, who'd simply been in the right place at the right time when she was in desperate need of pretending she could feel desire…

The footsteps and voices were just beyond the doorway. Miyu trembled.

"It's all right," Kanata whispered, and drew her against him.

And she let him do it. Let him stroke his hand up and down her spine, until she felt boneless. Let him thread his fingers into her hair and gently bury her face against his throat. Against his hot, masculine skin she'd tasted and wanted to taste again. Against that swift-beating pulse that mirrored hers. Against that hard, powerful body she yearned to explore, against that terrifying, exhilarating, exciting arousal…

A sound broke form Miyu's throat and she tore herself from Kanata's arms.

"I'm sure the women you usually keep company with enjoy this sort of thing, Mr. Saionji."

Kanata blinked. "What?"

"The—the primitive approach. It must wow them, back in—in Little Rock. Or—or Dallas. Or wherever it is you come from."

His eyes narrowed as they focused on her icy features. "Hey, babe, take it easy. I don't know what your problem is, but don't take it out on me."

"Probably sweeps them off their feet, in cow country. But this is Los Angeles, sir. And I'd appreciate it if you'd just get out of my way."

Kanata's mouth thinned. "Get out of your way?" he said slowly and softly.

"How nice to know you don't have a hearing problem Mr. Saionji. Yes. Get out of my way. Now."

His vision grew dark. He felt the surge of his blood as the most primal of instincts took over, urging him to do what he longed to do to Kouzuki Miyu, what any man would want to do, and teach her a lesson she'd never forget.

"There's a name for women like you," he said. "And I'm sure you've heard it many times before."

He watched her face go white, braced himself for the sting of her hand against his jaw…but it didn't happen. She simply stood very still, her body as rigid as a marble column. Then, to his amazement, she smiled.

"Believe me," she said softly, "I've been called worse."

Her voice quavered on the last word but she kept smiling. It was that brave, sad smile that defeated him, made him wish to God he could call back the ugly words he'd used but it was too late. Kouzuki Miyu stepped past him, onto the sidewalk just as a cruising taxi came by.

"Miyu," Kanata called, "Princess, wait…"

She stepped into the cab, the door shut and the taxi roared off into the night.

* * *

**missymace**

payment for the delays..

i need your answers in this one.. should i change the rating for this to M?? for a perv girl like me... this is quite normal.. i don't know about you guys.. if you feel offended by some words and implications in this fic.. you can stop reading it, no hard feelings :)

i know this chap's quite short.. but i'm gonna make up for it in the next chappie, ok?

aaaaaaaaaand. this different kanata... i'm just dying from giddiness. smexy all the way!! ^.^

thanks for reading!!


	6. Chapter 6

KxM fangirl here.

* * *

Nothing's mine, just this overworked imagination and the overused monster laptop named **Dumbo**.

I'll be increasing the rating for this, okay? :) hmmmmkay.

So if you still want to read the following chapters, be sure to change the ratings that are shown the next time you check for updates :) Thanks!!

This chapter's more on Kanata's inner turmoil over recent events and his being a brother to three siblings. I'm not forcing you into this chapter but hints to what is to happen in the future lies within… Enjoy! ^^

* * *

**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**vi**

**

* * *

**

Kanata paced the floor of his home on the beach at Malibu.

He was angry, restless—and frustrated.

What had made him think he owed Kouzuki Miyu an apology? Okay, he'd called her something pretty lousy but, dammit, it was a name she more than deserved. And what had made him behave like such a jerk? He'd acted like a monkey on a stick all night, jumping in whatever direction he'd wanted. Turn him on, turn him off…

"What does she think I am?" he muttered. "A light switch?"

He paced some more, opened the glass sliders that led from his bedroom to the deck and glowered at the Pacific Ocean.

The whole thing was ridiculous. The auction. The bidding. Her behavior, his behavior…

He swore and stomped back into the bedroom. He tugged off his boots, yanked off his tie, dumped his tux and everything that went with it on the floor and kicked the entire mess into the corner, in the process stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed.

"Bull-spit," he roared, and danced around the room on one foot. He limped to the dresser, took out a pair of running shorts and a piece of immaculately white T-shirt and pulled them on. His toe still hurt but he didn't much care. Pain was part of running, anyway he told himself grimly, and set out for a hard five miles on the packed sand.

He was panting when he got back, and sweat-drenched. (A/N: YUMMY) But he felt better. Most definitely better.

"Goodbye, Ice Princess," he said as he dumped his shorts and T-shirt on the tiled floor and stepped into the shower.

He loved his shower. Sybaritic, Saku had said, the first time he saw it, and yeah, it probably was. An overhead spray. Two side sprays. A marble bench. And room enough for two…

For two. For Miyu, and for him. Kanata closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to sap that beautiful body. To cup her naked breasts. To bend his head and taste them, to hear her breathy little sighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, to pin her back against the glass wall while the water beat down like warm rain as he buried himself deep inside her slick heat…

He groaned, looked down at himself in dismay and turned the shower to icy-cold.

Dressed again, this time in jeans and another white T-shirt, his feet bare, Kanata went into the kitchen and took a can of Coke from the refrigerator. It was late. Or early, depends on your point of view. The glass walls of his house looks out on a beach silent and deserted in the early morning.

Damn, he still felt restless. He needed a cold beer or a glass of decent wine, but there was no beer in the fridge and he wasn't in the mood to check the wine rack. He needed to talk to one of his brothers, but what would he say to them? That he was furious and frustrated, and pacing the floor like a teenage kid?

What he needed was a woman. One who wouldn't turn him on and off like a faucet, who wouldn't drive him crazy. Who'd be honest about wanting to share his bed. That would put Kouzuki Miyu out of his head, once and for all.

Kanata reached for his address book and thumbed through the pages. He'd met a gorgeous brunette just last week and said he'd call her. She'd probably be surprised to hear from him at this hour but he'd invite her to breakfast on the beach. Champagne. Caviar and scrambled eggs…

Who was he kidding? Dammit, he thought, and tossed the book aside. He didn't want a substitute for the Ice Princess. He wanted her.

Where was she now? He didn't even have her address or her phone number. What was she doing? Was she sleeping, dreaming of him? Or was she going crazy, the way he was, remembering…

The doorbell rang. Kanata had never been so glad to have his train of thought interrupted. He went to the door, opened it and found a kid in an olive-drab uniform on the porch.

"Morning, sir. I have a delivery for Mr. Saionji Kanata."

"Great," Kanata said briskly, signed his name to a receipt and took five bucks out of his pocket. "Thanks."

He shut the door, shot a puzzled glance at the package the kid had handed him and tore it open. A small vellum envelope, with his name elegantly scripted across the front, fell out.

Kanata picked it up, frowned, and examined it. He raised it to his nose and sniffed, but no perfume scent clung to the paper. What was inside? Something formal. An invitation? A thank-you? It might be either one, if Kouzuki Miyu…

Man, he was really losing it! No way would the Kouzuki babe write him a note. The only envelope she'd send him would probably blow him to smithereens the second he opened it.

Smiling, he opened the vellum envelope and took out a note-card.

"Oh, hell," Kanata said, and groaned.

_Your presence is requested at_

_The eighty-fifth birthday celebration_

_Of Mr. Saionji Hosho_

_Saturday and Sunday, May 16 and 17_

_At the Saionji Ranch_

"_Espada"_

_Brazos Springs, Texas_

_RSVP_

The script was handwritten and elegant but the message was a bummer. The sender knew it, too. The note, scrawled beneath the RSVP, made that clear.

"Yes, Kanata," it read, "this means you!"

The words were followed by a bold capital _M_, and the drawing of a tiny heart.

He laughed. Momoka. His little stepsister was some piece of work. Hard when she had to be, soft when she wanted to be. And, just now, she was going to be tough. This was no invitation, it was notice of a command performance. Just what he wanted, he thought wryly.

The old man, eighty-five? Wow. It was hard to believe. The last time he'd seen his father a year, two years ago, when Momo had conned them all into coming to the ranch for Thanksgiving or Christmas, some sort of holiday, Hosho had looked as tough and spare as ever. He certainly hadn't looked old. But he was; eighty-five years on this earth said it all.

But that party would just have to go on without him. No way was he flying to Texas in the middle of June for the privilege of subjecting himself to a weekend's worth of Hosho's sharp tongue….

A weekend with Momo, and Saku and Geju. A couple of days of reminiscing about the past, of maybe taking a swim down in the creek. Los Lobos style. Kanata grinned. Well, Los Lobos style, pre-Momo. In those days, the Saionji brothers used to swim bare-assed, proving their manhood by surviving the zillions of bloodthirsty, buzzard-size mosquitoes that swarmed from the banks along the stream.

A weekend like that might just clear his head.

Kanata reached for the phone before he could change his mind, hit a speed dial button. Saku answered on the first ring.

"Saku, my man. How you doin'?"

In Boston, Saionji Saku plucked a duplicate vellum invitation from the top of his desk and grinned.

"I was doin' fine, until a messenger turned up at my door this mornin'."

Kanata chuckle. "Our Momo, efficient as always. She even took the time difference into consideration. I'll be Geju is lookin' at this bombshell right about now, same as us."

"Yeah. Well, I'd have called you, anyway. That auction was last night, wasn't it?"

Kanata frowned. "So?"

"Whoa, K, my man, don't be so testy."

"I'm not being anything. I just want to discuss this invitation."

"Discuss it all you like, K. I ain't goin'."

"I'll just bet your high-priced architectural clients love that down-home talk," Kanata said, and grinned.

"They're never lucky enough to hear it, and stop changing the subject. How'd the auction go?"

"It went. Somebody bought me."

"Lucky lady. She have a name?"

"Miyu. And that's the end of the story."

"How much did you go for? More than the dude from that other law firm? Was this Miyu good-lookin'?"

"I went for enough, I beat the pants off the other guy, the lady was okay, if you like the type."

"Oh, my."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, sounds to me as if my big brother struck out for a change."

"Think again, pal," Kanata said, tossing off the lie with ease. It was better than having Saku pursue the subject, as he damned well knew he would. His kid brother could be worse than a hound on a trail, when he got started on something.

"Ah. So, she's there with you, huh?"

"You could say that, yeah."

Hell, it wasn't a lie. The Princess was inside his head, wasn't she? As real as a woman could be, without being in a man's arms?

"K, you old dog, you."

Kanata sighed. "Saku, do you think you could get your mind on something else?"

"You really want to talk about this birthday party, huh? Well, there's nothing to talk about. I'm not going. I already told you that."

"Hosho is coming up on eighty-five. It's a milestone."

"I don't care if it's a century stone. Why would any of us subject himself to a weekend of misery?"

"It won't be so awful."

"Says you."

"There'll probably be a couple of hundred people there. The old boy won't have the time to chew us up. Besides, I hate to disappoint Momoka."

"What's with you, K? It almost sounds as if you're lookin' to get out of town."

Kanata shut his eyes. If life had taught him anything, it was that there wasn't much one brother could hide from another.

"Well, I wouldn't mind a change of scene."

"Woman trouble," Saku said, and sighed.

"Yeah. I guess."

"I might have known."

"You? No way," Kanata said, with forced lightness. "Geju and I are the ones who know about women, expect Geju doesn't really count, considering that he's the only one who's still married."

"You're trying to change the subject, K."

Kanata gave a little laugh. "Right. I am. And before you ask, trust mem kid. You don't want to hear the gory details. Look, about this party—"

"Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm not going. I really don't have time to go back to Espada right now, okay?"

"That's that, then. Heck, you're too big for me to lock in the feed bin anymore." The brothers chuckled, and then Kanata cleared his throat. "Do me a favor, will you? Stay on the line while I phone Geju."

"Two against one won't do it anymore," Saku said, and laughed. "Even if Geju says he's going, with bells on, I'm not changing my mind."

"Fair enough, but say 'hello' to him anyway," Kanata said, and punched in his other brother's private number.

Geju picked up on the first ring. "Baby," he said gruffly, "Nanami, I love you so—"

Kanata laughed. "I love you, too, precious," he said in a high falsetto, "but my husband's starting to get suspicious."

"Kanata? Is that you?"

"And me," Saku said lazily. "How are you, bro?"

"I don't believe this! What are you guys doin'? Havin' a reunion out there in California? Or are you both in Boston, livin' it up in that mansion my little brother calls home?"

Kanata chuckled. "This three-way brotherly phone call is comin' to you courtesy of the marvels of modern-day science."

"And it's probably the only three-way ever done by telephone," Saku said, with a wicked grin at the pretty young secretary who'd just brought him his coffee. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Don't you darlin' me, pal," Kanata said, with a mock growl, "or I'll fly straight to that fancy-pants mansion of yours and beat you up the way I used to, when you were twelve and I was thirteen."

"Uh-huh. You an' who else?"

"Me an' Geju." Kanata grinned. "`Course, it'll have to wait until the sun gets up in the sky a piece, so my brain starts workin' right."

All three brothers laughed. Kanata punched the pillows behind him and sat back. He felt better already. There was nothing like shared memories, even the bad ones, and the thought was enough to make him remember the reasons for this phone call.

"Okay, guys," he said. "I wish to hell we could avoid the topic but it's time for a reality check."

"The invitation," Saku said.

Geju sighed. "You got yours, too?"

"This morning, bright and early, same as K."

"Yeah." Saku laughed. "And interrupted you and your guest. Isn't that right, K?"

Kanata shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fist. "Oh, yeah," he said briskly, and choked out a laugh. "There's nothing like being awakened with an invitation to purgatory when you, uh, when you, when you're otherwise involved."

Geju and Saku laughed. "What a tough life he leads," Saku drawled.

"I'd expect some compassion from you, kid," Kanata said, and quickly took the conversation elsewhere. "None from Geju, of course. He gave up his freedom years ago." His voice softened. "How's my girl, by the way? You still treating her right, or is he about ready to use that pretty head of hers and ditch you for me?"

"She's fine."

Kanata's brows lifted. His brother's tone seemed strained. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Saku said. "You don't sound…"

"Listen, maybe you guys can horse around all day," Geju snapped, "but I've got things to do."

"Right," Saku said, after a minute. "Uh, look, K's already laid out the agenda. What are we going to do about this command performance the old man's got planned for the middle of the month?"

"Ignore it," Geju said firmly. "I've got—"

"Things to do," Kanata said. "Yeah, I know. And I don't have any greater desire to go back to Espada for a dress rehearsal of King Lear than either of you guys, but—"

"Lear?" Saku said, sounding puzzled. "Hey, this is Texas we're talking about, not Stratford-on-Avon."

"Come on, Saku, you know what this is all about." Kanata frowned and wondered how come he hadn't seen it sooner. "Hosho is starting to feel mortal."

"Our father's going to make it to one hundred, and you know what? My money's on him."

"Yeah, but I bet the old boy's looking around, taking stock of that little spread of seven zillion acres he calls home, sweet home, and figuring it's time he made plans on how to divvy up the kingdom."

"Well, I don't need to spend a miserable weekend on Espada to know that I don't give a damn how he does it," Geju said gruffly. "You two enjoy the party without me."

"Hold it right there, pal." Saku's voice rang with indignation. "I'm going to be in Baltimore that weekend."

"Or in the Antarctic," Kanata said lazily, "anywhere it takes to avoid this shindig, right?"

"Wrong. I put in eight weeks on plans for a new bank, and I am not going to—"

"Dammit, Saku…" Kanata took a deep breath, then blew it out. "Sorry, kid. I have no right to twist your arm."

"Forget it. Truth is, I was lying through my teeth. I could get out of the Baltimore thing, if I wanted."

"Amazing," Geju said softly. "Three grown men, all of us falling over our own feet in a rush to keep clear of the place where we grew up."

They talked some more, even laughed a little. Then Kanata cleared his throat.

"The thing is , eighty-five is a pretty impressive number."

"The old man was never impressed by other numbers," Geju said bitterly. "Your eighteenth birthday. Saku's two years in grad school."

"Or your big fifth anniversary party," Kanata said, "but what the hell, gentlemen, we're bigger than that, right?" Groans greeted the announcement, but Kanata was undeterred. "We're young, he's old. That's a simple fact." His voice softened. "And then there's Momoka."

"Yeah." Saku sighed. "I do hate to disappoint her."

"Me, too. But I just don't see a choice here," Geju muttered.

"Exactly," Kanata said, in the tone of reason that had made him such a successful attorney. "There isn't any choice. The way I see it, we have to show up."

"No way," two voices said, in unison.

"Look, we're not kids anymore. Hosho can't get under our skin and make us miserable." Kanata paused. He was pushing, he knew, but Momo really would be heartbroken if they didn't show. And, dammit, selfish or not, he needed his weekend with his brothers. "Think of the plus side. We get to swap war stories and put a smile on Momo's face at the same time. Is that really so much to ask?"

There was a long silence, and then Saku sighed. "Okay, count me in."

"Not me," Geju said. "I don't have a weekend to spare."

"Geju," Kanata said, "look—"

"No, you look! I'm too busy for this stuff. I have some sensitive things going on here. You got that, or do I have to put it on a billboard in Times… Oh, hell. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. But I can't go. I just can't."

"Sure," Kanata said, after a minute.

"Understood," Saku said, a beat later. "Well…"

There was silence, the sound of throat being cleared. "Well," three voices said, and there were hurried goodbyes and the brothers all disconnected. Kanata waited a couple of seconds, then punched in Geju's number.

"Listen," he said, as soon as he heard his brother's voice, "if there's a problem on your end—"

Geju, sounding matter-of-fact, assured him there wasn't.

"Yeah, well, if there should be—"

"I'll call you."

Kanata nodded, hit his phone's Off button, then waited for it to ring.

"I called him back," Saku said, without bothering to say hello.

"Uh-huh. So did i."

"Something's wrong, K. I've never heard Geju sound like that."

"Yeah. But whatever it is, he doesn't want to talk about it."

"K? You don't think there could be trouble between Geju and Nanami, do you?"

"No way. That marriage was made in heaven. Nanami's wonderful." Kanata's tone flattened. "She's not the sort of woman who'd ever make a man jump through hoops. She's like an open book. No games, no secrets…"

"Tell me about it," Saku said, with a little laugh.

"They're all impossible." Kanata leaned his elbows on the deck's cedar railing. "They run hot, they run cold. A man never knows what to expect."

"You've got that right," Saku said darkly. "No matter what you say or do, it's never enough." He hesitated. "So, are we talking about your ex?"

"No, we're not. And, before you ask, I don't feel like discussing it any further."

"Suit yourself, pal."

"Saku?" Kanata's voice softened. "I'm looking forward to seeing you, kid."

He could almost see his brother smile. "Yeah," Saku said gruffly, "me, too."

Kanata hung up and walked out on the deck. It was a beautiful morning. Bright sunshine, blue sky, and the aqua waters of the ocean rolling out toward infinity. He felt better, now that he'd spoken with his brothers. And he was glad he hadn't asked a woman to join him here. Whatever else he was when it came to women, he wasn't a user. He never took more than he gave.

It was too bad the same couldn't be said of Kouzuki Miyu.

Kanata's expression hardened. Was that what the Kouzuki babe did for kicks? Offered a man a glimpse of Paradise, teased him until he went beyond caring, beyond sanity, then turned and walked away?

It was dangerous thing to do, something that could turn violent if she picked the wrong guy. But she probably chose her victims carefully. They wouldn't be bar pickups, or men she met in casual encounters. There were too many unknowns that way. l she would come on to men like him, ones who were successful and prominent. Men she could toy with but not fear.

His mouth narrowed. He'd never understood it, when men said they knew just what a woman needed, but he understood now. He could feel the tension twisting inside him again. Calm down, he told himself. Take it easy…

The hell with that. The Ice Princess had picked the wrong sucker this time. Kanata went back into the bedroom and reached for the phone.

She wasn't listed, but he hadn't expected her to be. Barbara Rhodes was. If she was surprised to hear from him so early in the morning, she covered it well, but she couldn't disguise her surprise at his request.

"I'm not supposed to do this, Mr. Saionji," she said.

"Of course not," Kanata said pleasantly. "And it shouldn't be necessary. Ms. Kouzuki gave me her address and phone number on a scrap paper but I manage to misplace it." He dropped his voice and did his best to sound boyish, and charming. "I'm sure you understand that I wouldn't want her to know that."

Minutes later, Kanata was in his Porsche, roaring along the back roads toward the canyons high above Los Angeles.

* * *

You guys can totally kill me now. ^^;;

i told you this chapter was leading. :P

**missymace **((((≧▽≦))))


	7. Chapter 7

Let's get it on!

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**HER PRIZE, HIS MISTRESS**

**vii**

* * *

High above Eagle Canyon, in a house her grandfather had built and her father, and then her husband, had dominated, Kouzuki Miyu was having breakfast in her garden.

Having breakfast in her garden was a first-time event, one Miyu was savoring with almost guilty pleasure.

She had slept badly. She'd tossed and turned and dreamed, though she couldn't remember what she'd dreamed, only that she'd come awake, heart-racing, somewhere around five-thirty.

Enough, she'd thought firmly, was enough and, since it was so early, she'd come down the ornate staircase of Kouzuki House still in her nightgown, then padded barefoot across the cold stone floor of the huge entry hall, to the kitchen.

The big room was silent. Not even Lula was stirring so early. Miyu had taken a container of orange juice out of the refrigerator but when her gaze fell on a can of coffee, she knew that was what she really wanted. Still, she'd hesitated. The kitchen was the servants' domain. Well, Lula's, now that her father was gone and Seiya was, too, and she'd gotten rid of the maid and butler and chaugger who'd made Kouzuki House run. That the kitchen was off limits to the Kouzukis-and to Yaboshi-wasn't a rule, it was simply an understanding.

Miyu stood there, looking at the coffee can. Suddenly she reached for it.

"It's only coffee, Miyu," she muttered impatiently.

Not bothering on contemplating whether it's against the "rules", she read the instructions, then went to find the filters and glass carafe and the pot.

"Understanding" number one broken, she'd thought, almost giddily. Why not number two? There really wasn't any reason to go back upstairs and dress. Lula was still in her rooms. She was alone here. Nobody to scold her. She won't get arrested for drinking coffee in her nightgown.

"To hell with it," Miyu had said to the dining room, and she'd marched back into the kitchen, made herself toast, poured juice, put a cup and the pot of freshly brewed coffee on a tray and carried it out to the tiled patio. Her father had thought eating out of the doors was a lower-class convention. Her husband had thought it uncomfortable, and she didn't want to think what either would have said about her sitting her, in her nightgown at six something in the morning, eating breakfast she'd prepared with her own hands.

Breakfast had never tasted better.

It was foolish to feel so good about such a little series of events, but she felt good about them anyway, as if she were taking the first steps toward reclaiming her own life.

Miyu's smile slipped.

She had to stop thinking about last night, that was all. What she'd done, what she might have done, with a stranger in a doorway-_a doorway_-if she hadn't come to her senses didn't matter. She had come to her senses; that was what mattered. Wasn't it?

"Good morning, Madam."

Coffee sloshed over the rim of Miyu's cup. "Lula," she said, and forced a smile. "I hope you don't mind, but I invaded your kitchen."

Lula minded. Miyu could see it in the look that flashed over her face just before she covered it with a polite smile.

"Certainly not, Madam Yaboshi. But if the madam was hungry, she should have awakened me."

"There was no need. And, Lula? I know I've mentioned this before... Would you please stop addressing me that way?"

"Madam?"

"I am Ms. Kouzuki, Lula. Or Ms. Miyu. Or just Miyu, if you like. But I am not 'Madam Yaboshi.'"

"Oh, of course." Lula flushed. "It's just that it was your father's preference. And your-and Mr. Seiya's."

"Yes, well it's not mine," Miyu said, struggling to sound pleasant.

"I'll make it a point to remember. May I bring you anything else?"

"Nothing, thank you. I'll call if I need you, Lula."

So much for "understanding" number four, Miyu thought, as the patio door swung shut. Never surprise the servants. Well, she hadn't surprised Lula, she'd shocked her. The truth was, she'd shocked herself, too. What was wrong with her this morning? She was feeling contrary. Restless. As if what she needed to do was turn the world upside down.

Miyu lifted her cup to her lips.

She'd come close enough to doing just that, last night.

But that craziness, whatever it had been, was over. And she wasn't going to waste time thinking about it. It was just that she'd behaved so foolishly, setting herself up for one embarrassment after another from the moment she'd overheard those two harpies talking in the ladies' lounge at L'Orangerie.

Whatever had possessed her, to hurry to Saks and buy the clothing she'd already dumped in the corner of her closet? The lace that masqueraded as underwear. The garnet dress. And... Miyu blushed. And those-those come-and-get-me shoes? She groaned and put her hand to her forehead. All of that, and for waht? To prove that she could turn a man on?

Color flooded her face.

How could she have plannedsomething so sleazy? Bought a man. Let him-let him do things...

Oh, hell.

No matter how many breakfasts she prepare for herself, she still wouldn't be able to get rid of the memories. Saionji Kanata was still lodged in her head, damn him. Those knowing eyes. That little smile. Was the humiliation of last night going to haunt her for the rest of her life?

Probably.

People had seen. Not what had happened in that doorway, thank goodness, but the rest of it-her outrageous bid, theway he'd held her when they danced, that kiss...

Oh goodness, that kiss.

People had seen, and they'd talk. They'd laugh. They'd tease. And she'd have to laugh right along with them, smile and think of something suitably clever and outrageous to say so no one would have reason to imagine either the man or the kiss had meant anything to her, because they hadn't.

"They didn't," Miyu said.

THose things he'd done to her. Cheap things. Awful things. She'd never have let him do them, if she'd been thinking straight. What women would? Well, some women, maybe. But she was not one of them. And if Seiya-if any man-wanted to call a woman frigid because she wouldn't lie and pretend sex was more than something-something men wanted that was vaguely unhygienic...well, that was the man's problem. Not the woman's.

No intelligent person could really believe that a woman who'd never cried out in a man's arms was, somehow, less than she might be.

_She had cried out, though. Last night, in Saionji Kanata's arms, she'd cried out, she'd felt things, wanted things..._

"Well," she'd say with a big smile, when people teased her, "it was for charity, after all."

She'd survive the gossip. She'd survive the indescreet comments to her unusual behavior. She'd survive. Kouzukis always did. People would forget, and so would she. Soon, she wouldn't remember any of the details of the night. None of them. Not Saionji Kanata's name, or his face, or the way he'd kissed her. Or the way that cruel-looking mouth had managed to take hers with such heart-stopping hunger. He'd be out of her head, out of her dreams...

_Her dreams._

Miyu folded her trembling hands in her lap. She had remembered her dream. And, God, she wish she hadn't.

She dreamed that she was at the Kouzuki House. Only it wasn't a house. It was a castle, and she was alone in the hall, waiting for something. For someone. Beneath her plain white gown, her heart beat so fast, so hard, she could feel it in her throat.

Suddenly, the massive doors of the castle burst ofpen. A huge black charger filled the doorway. ON its back was a knight in black armor. His hair was luscious chocolate brown, his eyes piercing her soul.

The Black Knight was Saoinji Kanata, and he had come for her. He was heaven and earth, he was all the fires of hell, and in her dream, Miyu had known, without question, that she'd be destroyed if she let him take her...

"Ms. Kouzuki?"

Miyu swung around.

"Lula." She gave a choked laugh. "You, ah, you startled me."

"I'm sorry. I only came to see if you were done with your breakfast." Lula's lips thinned. "I've cleaned up my kitchen but I'd like to tidy up out here, if it's all the same to you."

"Don't worry about the patio, Lula. I'll take care of it."

"Oh no, madam. Ms. Kouzuki. I could never allow you to-"

"Lula," Miyu said brightly, "how's your sister in Santa Barbara?"

"Why-why yes. She's fine, thank you."

"I'll bet you don't get to see her very often." Miyu cleared her throat. "Why don't you take the station waon adn drive up for the weekend?"

The housekeeper stared as if Miyu had lost her mind.

"The whole weekend?"

"Yes. You could leave right now. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Of course. But..."

"But?"

"But in all the years I worked for your father and your husband, I never-"

"You don't work for them now," Miyu said sharply. Shetook a deep breath. "Lula. Take the station wagon and go wherever you like. I'm giving you the weekend off."

A while later, shehear the rumblr of the front gates as Lula drove through them. Miyu rose and walked through the garden to the koi pond.

Could it really be only eight-thirty?

The door chime rang. Miyu froze, remembering her dream, and then she laughed. Black Knights didn't ride up to the castle doors and politely ring the bell. Besides, no one could get through the gates without a key.

Lula must have forgotten something.

She hurried through the entry hall, the stones cold against her bare feet. She smoothed down the skirt of her long with nightgown, undid the bolt and opened the door.

"Lula," she said, smiling, "what did you..."

Oh! Miyu slammed the door shut and fell back against it. It wasn't her sour-faced housekeeper who stood on the steps. It was Saionji Kanata.

* * *

Hello! I have finished up til chapter 9. Double chapter for all you lovely sweets :)  
I changed this to M because of saucy chapter 8. Enjoy!

Thank you for your patience.

**missymace**


	8. Chapter 8

REMINDER!

Before you begin this chapter, please check the previous one as I have edited it before I uploaded this. Thanks!

Let's get the freak on!

* * *

**HER PRIZE HIS MISTRESS**

**viii**

* * *

_Bang!_

"Miyu?" The door jolted under the blow of his fist. "Miyu, open this door!"

Miyu stumbled away from the door, her eyes fixed on it. How had he found her? He didn't know where she lived. She'd never told him…

_Bang! Bang!_

"Open it, Miyu, or so help me God, I'll kick it in!"

A whimper broke from her throat. She thought of the dream, of the Black Knight, and she began to tremble.

"Go away," she said, but the words came out a terrified whisper, lost under the sounds of Kanata's fists beating against the door and the answering _thud-thud_ of her own heart.

The door shuddered. She'd never thrown the bold. She was afraid to go back and do it, now. What if the door flew open while she was just behind it? He'd be able to catch her, catch her and—and—

She blanked the terrible thought from her mind. Run, she told herself, run quickly and hide…

But it was too late. The door burst open, and Kanata stepped inside.

Miyu stared at him, transfixed, not believing what she saw. He was dressed all in black. A black T-shirt fit snuggly across his broad shoulders and chest. Faded black jeans clung to his narrow hips and long legs. Black boots, dusty with use, peeked from under the jeans.

He looked wild, and dangerous, and magnificently male. He was not a dream. He was flesh and blood, and he had come for her.

He had come for her.

Terror danced along her spine. Terror… and something else.

His eyes met hers. "Miyu," he said softly.

Be calm, she told herself. It was a dream, just a dream. Whatever else Saionji Kanata might be, he was a civilized man. And she was a civilized woman, who knew how to deal with uninvited guests.

Miyu drew herself up. "You're not welcome here, Mr. Saionji."

Kanata laughed. He'd imagined a dozen scenarios on the way here but not one of them had Kouzuki Miyu in a virginal-looking nightgown, standing in the center of a room that looked as if it came straight out of the fifteenth century, facing him down as if he were nothing more than an unwelcome guest when she had to know what had brought him here.

Oh, yes, she knew. He could see it in the darkness of her eyes. In the leap of her pulse, just visible in the hollow of her throat. And in the tension that hummed between them, like electricity through a high-voltage line.

Kanata smiled lazily and kicked the door shut. "Is that any way to welcome the man you're supposed to spend the weekend with, Princess?"

_Run,_ the voice inside her said again, run!

But she couldn't. She knew better than to turn her back on a hungry beast, and that was what the man lounging against the door with such seeming carelessness reminded her of, not a Black Knight but a black jaguar, a hungry black jaguar on the prowl that would spring at her, devour her in a heartbeat, if she showed her fear.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Saionji. I never had any intention of spending the weekend with you. Surely, you know that."

"What did you intend to do with me, then, Princess?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It was—that was for charity."

He laughed. "Charity, huh?" A smile, as cold and feral as any she'd ever seen, twisted across his mouth. "That's a charming sentiment, Princess. But I'm not in a charitable frame of mind this morning."

"Just—just stop right there, Mr. Saionji." Miyu swallowed hard as he started slowly toward her. "I swear, if you come any closer, I'll—"

"All that time," he said roughly, "everything that we did and you still won't call me by my name."

Miyu's throat constricted. She took a step back, then another and another. There was a heavy oak chair somewhere behind her, she put out a hand, felt for it and moved around it.

"Mr. Saionji—"

Kanata kicked the chair aside. Miyu danced backward.

"Mr. Saionji. I don't know why you came here, sir, but—"

"Don't you?"

God, he was still coming!

"Lula! Lula? Call the police."

His smile was, she thought, almost gentle. "Lula?"

"My housekeeper. Yes. Lula! Diall 911. Tell them there's an intruder. Tell them—"

"The lady driving the Volvo station wagon? The one who's probably halfway to the valley by now? You ought to tell her to be more careful about locking that gate, Princess."

"My—my chauffer, then." Miyu's voice quavered. "You don't want me to call him. He's—he's big. Very big. He's—he's a former wrestler. And he'll—"

"Call him, by all means. I used to wrassle steers. It's what us cowboys do for fun." Kanata flashed a tight grin. "Call your chauffeur, if you've really got one." His eyes turned from brown to black as he closed the distance between them. "It won't stop what's going to happen, Miyu."

She took another step back. Her shoulders hit the tapestry wall.

"Kanata," she said breathlessly, while a honeyed sweetness spread through her.

"Say it again."

Miyu swallowed dryly. "Kanata. Please…"

"You said that last night, too."

"Said what?" He was inches away from her now, so close that she could feel the heat of his body, smell the mingled scents of sea and soap and, under it all, another smell, one that was wild and primitive and made her pulse quicken. "The only thing I remember you saying last night was that I never wanted to see you ag—"

"You said, 'please.'" Desire thickened his voice. "Please, you said, when we were in that doorway, when we were making love."

"It wasn't love! It was—"

"Sex." He reached out and touched his hand to her cheek. His fingertips were rough and callused but his touch was gentle. She imagined herself turning her hear, catching his fingers and sucking them into her mouth. The thought left her breathless. "That's fine, Princess. I don't believe in fairy tales that end with forever after."

"And I don't believe in—in rape fantasies."

His quick, dangerous smile turned her bones to jelly. "Neither do I." His thumb rolled over her bottom lip. "I'm talking about a man, and a woman, and what both of them damn well know they want."

"No. Please, Kanata, I beg you. If you've any decency at all—"

"Hel, no." he said roughly, "I don't. You pretty much saw to that, last night."

He reached for her. She kicked out, bruised her bare toes on his shin, ducked under his arm and ran. But there was no way to escape him. He caught her halfway across the hall and spun her toward him.

"There's no running away this time, Ms. Kouzuki." His tone, and the curl of his fist into the high lace collar of her nightgown, made a mockery of the name. "You're mine, Princess. Or I'm yours. Bought and paid for…"

The fragile cotton tore under his hand. And then, oh then, she was in his arms.

His rage vanished at the touch of her mouth against his. He groaned, threaded his hands into her hair and held her captive to his kiss, but she was a willing prisoner. All that chilly restraint, the memories of her disdain that had kept him pacing the floor most of the night, vanished in a heartbeat.

She was wild in his arms, and what she'd given him last night was nothing compared to what she offered now.

She caught his shirt in her fists, rose on her toes to reach his mouth. He gathered her close, his legs spread so she was cradled against his hardness, and lifter her to him. She moaned; her mouth opened to his and her surrender drove his blood so it thundered in his veins.

She was warm and pliant as silk in his arms; she tasted of sunshine and of flowers. He knew he could take whatever he wanted and he took it all, without mercy. He wanted everything. Her kisses. Her body. Her need.

He touched her. Her breasts. Her belly. The soft golden curls that nestled between her thighs, but none of it was enough. He needed to be inside her, deep inside her, and he couldn't wait for the niceties of a bed or even a carpet. He'd been starving, and she was his feast.

"Kanata," she sobbed, "Kanata, please…"

The plea, the hunger of it, finished him. He shoved her back against the wall, his hands hard, his need desperate.

"Now," he said, as he unzipped dhis fly and freed himself.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Oh…"

She cried out as he drove into her. He felt her convulse around him almost instantly, and she cried out, again, shattering herself, shattering him, and he knew that this was only the beginning.

When he could draw breath again, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Then he lifted her into his arms and she clung to his neck, he open mouth pressed to his throat.

He carried her up the wide staircase to a room where the drapes were drawn. And in the artificial twilight of the spring morning, Kanata put Miyu down in the corner of a high, four-poster bed that smelled, as she did, of sunshine and flowers. He undressed and came down on the bed beside her.

He told himself to go slowly this time, to touch her gently and learn all the places that brought her pleasure. He wanted to see her green eyes turn dark, to watch her shudder with passion. But the sight of her lying beneath him, the tattered remains of her gown spread around her like the torn petals of a flower, her mouth swollen and rosy from his kisses, drove every rational thought from his head.

"Tell me," he demanded, taking her wrists in one hand and stretching her arms high over her head. "Tell me what you want, Princess. I need to hear the words."

He saw the movement of her throat as she swallowed and he knew that even now, after what had happened, he couldn't make the simple admission.

"Kana—"

"Unnn… Kanata!"

"Yes, scream my name." he whispered roughly. "Say it. Say what you want."

"YOU! I want y—AAH!"

She screamed as she reached her peak. The height was unlike any she'd felt before.

"We're not done yet, Princess."

He was breathing heavily while he positioned himself over her sweat-covered body. She hadn't noticed him when he removed his garments and was utterly surprised at his excited state. He could see the want, the need in her eyes.

He badly wants her. Now.

A high keening sound broke from her throat as he entered her. "Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.."

He told himself, again, that he wanted to watch her. And he did, for a moment; he watched as her eyes turned black and bottomless, as her body bowed and arched to his. He couldn't control himself anymore.

She lifted her hand and touched his face. It was a gesture that was feminine and strangely gentle in the midst of the whirlwind they rode.

"Kanata," she whispered, and touched his face. "Kanata…"

Her voice broke, and he was lost. To sensation. To desire.

To Miyu.

* * *

So I decided to let this be the safe version of Chapter 8.  
If you wish to see the full lemony goodness, please copy the following link.

batangsora  
.tumblr  
.com

private / 56010737883/ tumblr_mq9m1uglT71qzd0n0

i can't post links :(  
if there are any problems, please feel free to PM me :)

I hope the lemon was enough.  
This is my first time and I hope it wasn't too raunchy.  
Please tell me how you feel about this chapter.

Thank you!

**missymace**


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